He must obey orders. Well, so must everybody who entered Borga—unless they were of higher rank than the military governor. This young man could at least be put to the indignity of the inquisitorial process of his officials. And he knew how unpleasant their efforts could be made. He promised himself this trifling satisfaction, at least—when the Prince chanced to be out of the way. It was certainly his duty that this young man should go through the customary process which all visitors at Borga were submitted to.
He left the deck of the dreadnought as the Prince and his protégé vanished down the steel companionway, and passed out of the docks. Nor did he neglect to give the necessary orders for his visitors' departure. After that, however, he went straight to his headquarters.
Meanwhile the Prince, without the least hesitation, led his companion along the steel passages, past the maze of machinery which formed the bowels of the dreadnought. At the extreme peak of the vessel was situated the light-room of the U-rays, where they found four engineers at work.
The men saluted and stood by when they realized the identity of their visitors, and the work of examining the mechanism of the wonderful new submarine light at once began.
Von Bersac took small enough part in it. The Prince at once became the engineer. The skill and deftness, and the knowledge he displayed were incomparable. He talked the whole time he was examining, finding fault here, praising there, and all his talk was addressed to his nephew as though he were the final authority. Von Bersac remained the unenthusiastic creature he had appeared before Von Salzinger, and kept to his attitude of disjointed grunts. But his eyes were alert and apparently comprehending, and when, in imitation of the other, he examined any detail, there was a disarming conviction about all his movements. Finally they tested the light, and, after a number of tests, the Prince threw up his hands in a gesture of almost ludicrous despair.
"Ach, Leder," he cried, "it is not the fault of these good fellows. It is yours—yours and mine. It is a month's delay at least, is it not so?"
Von Bersac silently acquiesced.
"A month of most valuable time," the Prince went on. "See here," he cried, and went off into a world of technicalities beyond even the comprehension of the skilled engineers present. "It is to be regretted," he finished up despairingly. "It must be taken down, and sent back to us. But these, these,"—he laid his hands on two portions of the delicate mechanism enclosed in polished brass cylinders, through which the insulated cables passed—"we will take these with us. They can be trusted in no other hands." He turned to the chief engineer. "Take these out without delay. Herr von Bersac will wait for them, and convey them to my ship. There will be no difficulty. Sever the cables here, and here," he added, indicating spots which the engineer chalked where he was to cut them. "Do not let any one handle them when they are down, Leder. Bring them yourself."
The tall figure of the Prince departed, and Leder von Bersac remained while the engineers carried out the work.
It was quite simple. There was no difficulty. The Prince had made certain of this before he left his nephew to wait for the two cylinders. But the men worked with great care, for they knew that in those two simple brass casings lay the vital secrets which were to transform the submarine dreadnoughts from lumbering, groping sea monsters into live, active, vicious creatures of offense.